The Hardest Part
by NaNixon
Summary: Sometimes it's not easy being pink.
1. Chapter 1: One of Those Days

Stephanie hugged her knees to her chest, feeling the first tear trickle down her cheek. She was glad the room was dark, that she hadn't turned on the light when she slammed the door behind her and crawled into bed. She was glad she didn't have to see the pink blanket she had wrapped around her, the pink pillow she had shoved away as she leaned her head backwards against the headrest. Taking a deep breath, she squeezed her eyes shut and struggled for control. _Stay strong, Stephy, you can get through this again. Just like last time._ _Just like all the other times._ Leaning forward, she let out a long, wobbling breath and let the blanket fall from her shoulders.

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she got up shakily and slowly made her way to the vanity table, reaching for the light switch next to the mirror. She saw a stranger staring back at her. Her pink hair, usually flowing around her face and highlighting her delicate jawline was now plastered to the side of her face, hanging in dank strands where her tears had run down her cheeks had glued them together. Her eyes, once shining and laughing, were now red and lifeless, swollen with tears unshed. The events of the day flooded back to her, and Stephanie fell forward onto her crossed arms and let her muffled sobs float out into the house.


	2. Chapter 2: Viva la Vida

_Skipping up the stairs to school, Stephanie told herself that today was going to be different. And for the first one hour and thirty-six minutes, it was. Until, sitting alone in the corner of the cafeteria, she found herself once again cowering in the long shadows of her tormenters._

"_You know," Debbie drawled, winding a glossy lock of hair around her finger lazily. "We find it cute when you get up and try to run away."_

_Stephanie sat unmoving, staring at her lap silently._

"_But now you're no fun."_

_Glancing down her nose at the little pink scrap of a girl shrinking before her, Debbie chuckled mirthlessly. "Well, seeing as you seem far more...accepting...of us today, why don't we join you in your little lunchtime?"_

_Leaving her cohorts standing imposingly on either side, she sat down leisurely and stretched out cat-like with a contented sigh, deliberating knocking Stephanie painfully into the wall. Trying to regain her balance, Stephanie straightened up and was startled to Debbie's immaculately powdered face inches from her own, her grey eyes gleaming maliciously._

"_Say," she purred, her eyes never leaving her face. "You don't mind if sharing your lunch with us, do you?"_

_Stephanie dropped her eyes, her hair falling across her cheeks, burning with shame and grief._

"_I guess not," she heard herself whisper. In a haze, she felt her hair being tucked gently behind her ears, something that she hated and knew Debbie relished._

"_See, there's a good girl. Sharing is caring, am I right?"_

_Vaguely aware of Debbie's arms brushing across her lap to supposedly reach the rucksack pressed protectively against the wall, Stephanie didn't realised what was happening before it was too late. Before she knew it, Debbie had stood up, triumphantly holding her precious diary daintily in one hand. Stephanie gasped, struggling past the fog of self-pity to get her one and only friend in the world back from Debbie's clutches. She knew it was hopeless from the moment she managed to get to her feet. Encircled by the people who made her life nothing but a miserable existence and the gathering crowd watching on passively, she spun in every direction, jumping desperately in an attempt to reach the diary spinning and arcing over her head, its pages flapping helplessly in the wind. All she could hear was Debbie's gleeful chanting and taunts, the whoops and cackles as her fingers could only skim the soft cloth of the diary's cover._

_Then the booming voice of a teacher rang in her ears across the cafeteria and Stephanie collapsed to the floor, the thundering footsteps of the dispersing students shaking her exhausted body as she lay sobbing, the cold tiles unyielding to the tears dripping from her eyes. Rolling over, she felt her diary pressing into the small of her back and clutched it to her chest, the frantic clicking of the teacher's heels reaching her as she stared up at the ceiling._

Raising her head from her arms, Stephanie sniffed and rubbed her knuckles over her eyes, wiping them dry. She could hear her parents' low voices in the kitchen and pictured them glancing at her bedroom door in worry and uncertainty, thinking they were all but useless to their daughter. At this, Stephanie felt a pang of guilt shoot through her. They didn't deserve what they got when they opened the door at hearing her hurried footsteps crunching on the path, their welcoming smiles turning into gasps of shock as she pushed past them roughly, slamming the door in their faces as they tried to take her into their arms. Sighing, Stephanie got to her feet and prepared to go out to face them and apologise; to fall into their loving embraces and let their comforting voices wash over her. They were all that she had, and she didn't want to lose them. She sighed again, her hand on the doorknob.

And she wanted a friend.

Oh, how dearly she wanted a friend.

A friend to laugh with, share with, even cry with.

A reason to get up in the morning, something to look forward to before going to sleep.

Straining her ears, Stephanie tried to make out what her parents were saying. Something about a business meeting. Or two business meetings. Shrugging, she turned the knob and slowly pushed the door open, cringing at the creak reverberating through the house. The voices stopped, and she could hear their footsteps hurrying down the hallway towards her, her name being called tentatively.

**A/N: The idea for this little fic popped into my head when I stumbled across some snaps of a LazyTown live event where our little Steph was happily being mobbed by adoring fans. Which led me to wonder: if Stephanie was just another girl in this world of ours, wouldn't there have to be at least one person ****out there to clash with? And needless to say, "The Hardest Part" began writing itself. I hope you like it.** **Oh, and before I forget the riveting legalities that come with fanfiction: "Without prejudice. The names of all characters contained here-in are the property of Magnús Scheving. No infringements of these copyrights are intended, and are used here without permission."**


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